Chapter 6 - The Federal Interruption
The words hung in the air of courtroom 4B like a detonating charge.
"Federal agents are downstairs with an emergency warrant," the bailiff had whispered, but the acoustics of the vaulted room carried his panic straight to the gallery.
Uncle Richard let out a breathless, wheezing cackle of vindication, pointing a shaky finger at Vincent. "I knew it! The federal indictment! He's a criminal! Take him away, your honor!"
Judge Thomas looked down from the bench, his half-moon spectacles slipping slightly down his nose as he stared at Vincent with undisguised alarm. The calm, untouchable aura that had filled the room moments before fractured under the weight of federal jurisdiction.
Vincent didn't blink. His expression remained a chiseled mask of granite, though Harper felt the muscles beneath his fingers—still resting lightly on her shoulder—tense into steel cables.
"Mr. Romano," Judge Thomas said, his voice tightening with official gravity. "It appears your personal affairs are intersecting with matters far beyond this family court's purview. Do you have a statement regarding this warrant?"
"My legal counsel handles all federal inquiries, your honor," Vincent replied smoothly, his baritone voice cutting through the rising murmur of the gallery. He didn't look back at the doors; his eyes remained fixed on the judge. "This emergency warrant is a procedural intimidation tactic by a district attorney desperate to salvage a failing case before trial. It has no bearing on the civil standing of my marriage or my wife's guardianship rights."
"Oh, it has everything to do with it!" Richard shouted, standing up from his bench. "He's a flight risk! He's hiding behind a fabricated marriage to clean up his public image! You can't award custody of an eight-year-old child to a man about to be perp-walked out of a federal courthouse!"
Harper’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked from Richard’s triumphant, greasy grin to Vincent’s unreadable profile. She had made a deal with a devil to save her sister, and now the bill was coming due right in the middle of the trial.
Before Judge Thomas could bang his gavel to restore order, the heavy wooden doors at the back of the courtroom swung open wide.
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Three men in dark federal windbreakers marked FBI strode down the center aisle, led by an Assistant U.S. Attorney whose sharp, humorless expression spelled out total disaster.
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